


The Carrier King

by writing4monsters



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Interspecies Sex, M/M, Monsterfucking, Other, Teratophilia, i might feel guilty but i'm not sorry, light oviposition, we all know this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing4monsters/pseuds/writing4monsters
Summary: There was a tie between Wormavos or mermen for my next fic, so I decided to write this one first. There is some light oviposition, but no actual eggs. Viren just wants to become stronger. I'd apologize for writing this, but it's probably too late. It's short and to the point.
Relationships: Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince), Viren/Monster
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	The Carrier King

Viren forgets how long they’ve been traveling. The days and nights have melded together as he sits at yet another campsite on the army’s western road. The humans are headed for the storm spire, which they'll reach by late tomorrow. Stationed up behind a small hill, and out of sight from the others, Viren does what he can to make himself comfortable. He’s half sprawled out over the grass and rocks, while slightly overhead of him and upside down floats the ghostly apparition of Aaravos, Viren’s ally and co-conspirator.  
“So, tell me.” Aaravos asks of Viren as he lazily hovers above. “Now that we’re almost there, how do you feel?”  
“I feel tired,” Viren answers. “The sun is hot. That worm of yours is heavy.”  
Not too far away, curled up on the ground with its eyes closed is Aaravos’s half-conduit and former mouthpiece, Wormavos. While the insect had once been very small and cute (and could travel with Viren almost anywhere), this was no longer the case. The bug’s size had recently exploded, causing him to become much taller than Viren, and there was no hiding him anymore. These days Wormavos preferred to be coiled loosely about his companion’s shoulders whenever it was awake. This of course had been an adjustment for Viren, especially with the worm’s gigantic face always so close to his.  
“You complain, but I won’t remind you of the dungeon,” Aaravos smirks. “How long have you dreamed for this day to arrive?”  
“Long enough.” Viren says as he removes Harrow’s crown -no, his crown - from his head and wipes away a film of sweat. Xadia is humid. It’ll be difficult to sleep tonight.  
“I know much about how waiting feels,” Aaravos says as he hovers away from Viren to float beside the sleeping Wormavos.“But allow me to speak from experience. These are the moments you must savor most. They’ll be written in history, but not as you remember them.”  
“I get what you’re saying. But I won’t forget.”  
“Won’t you?” Wise. “You’ve made no memories so far on this journey. Your army, day or night, is at your disposal. Have you ever imagined, “Aaravos pauses as he slowly considers, “what a younger ruler might be getting up to right about now?”  
“Aaravos,” Annoyed.  
“Nothing is out of reach for you, Viren. Not anymore.” In that low and persuasive voice. “Or do those kinds of things no longer interest you?”  
Viren is silent.  
“I used to interest you. From time to time. Before all this.”  
“That interest…hasn’t wavered,” Viren carefully admits, “But this was the plan, what we set out to do. Everything changes tomorrow.”  
“Yes. All the more reason to enjoy one’s self.”  
“You’re not actually here,” Viren confesses under his breath.  
“No, I’m not. But I do know you well enough by now, and you’re not alone.”  
“…”  
“The worm is part of me, Viren.”  
Color rises in the king’s face.  
“He was remade for you, as a gift. To celebrate your coronation, but you haven’t so much as used him.”  
Viren’s eyes shift cautiously toward the sleeping Wormavos. “Used?”  
“Save your protests,” Aaravos murmurs softly. “He can lend you my strength. Reinvigorate you, even.”  
A soft twitch occurs unexpectedly from the folds of Viren’s thin white robe. Incentive. It's all the human has ever needed.  
Aaravos notices this and smiles, then looks back behind them over the hill. “We have enough privacy here. Take what you want. Don’t waste time.”  
Viren glares at Aaravos for only a moment before he sets his crown aside. The man sits up, slowly turns around onto all fours, and hikes up the back of his robe to reveal a pale ass and full thighs. Viren is half hard.  
“Well,” he asks of Aaravos, “tell him to wake up.”  
Aaravos smiles, and without another word floats closer to the sleeping insect. The elf’s form disappears inside of the creature as it tickers to life and raises its head.  
Viren breathes over his shoulder, presenting. His heart rate has skyrocketed. Anyone could walk up over the hill right now and discover him like this. But the real thrill isn’t in getting caught, no. It’s an understanding that even if he does, Viren answers to no one.  
Wormavos closes their distance, skittering up to the human and easily scaling the back of Viren’s thighs, which Viren presses together for an easier climb. The sensation of the insect’s tiny feet, dozens of them, tickle up the small of Viren’s back and around his shoulders as the creature finds a comfortable spot. They’re both used to being close together like this, so it doesn’t feel entirely immoral. But it’s when something pointy and wet snags Viren’s right cheek that his breathing catches. The organ is almost…sharp?  
He’s not sure about this. Viren leans forward, but it’s too late for him to get away. Wormavos’ tail end has wrapped tightly around Viren’s right leg for balance.  
“Do it.” In a half-staggered breath. Nervous.  
There are soft clicking sounds near his ear as the firm point finds Viren’s entrance and pushes. It’s plenty slick, but likely not going to feel very good, Viren worries. That is, until something much softer and smoother and warmer suddenly wriggles free from the tip of the organ’s pointy shell.  
“?!”  
Wormavos’ actual cock is narrow and noodley. And it knows just where to go, burrows itself deeply into Viren as if finding a new home.  
Viren lowers his head, cringes into a small grunt as he feels the insect poking around his insides.  
Wormavos’ body is locked against Viren’s. It doesn’t move or rut and remains still as a clear and thickish substance stickily passes from the insect into the human.  
Viren strokes himself. He watches the hill. His body is getting hot right now and he’s wishing he hadn’t left his robe on. So he stops and awkwardly struggles to shed it. Pulls it out best he can from underneath all those little feet, over his head, then tosses it away from them. Skin on skin feels so much better. Or is it body on body? However it ought to be defined, it doesn’t matter.  
Wormavos’ dick has wiggled and poked its way even further back and is now wagging against Viren’s prostate. This probably should be it, Viren thinks. He’s not going to be able to hold on. But suddenly the bug’s protective outer organ presses into Viren as something new and firm, round but not too large, is pushed and slicked forcibly inside of him. The first orb is followed immediately by a second. It feels so good. Viren contracts around them, but now he is also of course concerned.  
“What are you doing?” Through gritted teeth. A third orb enters him as he chokes back a groan.  
_“Lending you my strength, as I said,”_ Aaravos’s voice echoes inside of Viren’s head. _“Consume them, Viren. They will remain present for only a short time.”_  
Viren’s run out of having a voice to argue with. All he has left now are his cries, buried beneath the thundering of his own heart. He contracts once more as a fourth orb enters him, this time crowding into his canal. Underneath it all, Wormavos’ tip continues to stimulate him, and he finally goes slack. Viren's shoulders meet the ground as his rear juts back, the giant creature mounted firmly over him and coiling down the king’s body, its face resting beside Viren’s. Fluid drips from the place they are joined and from the tip of Viren’s head. Precum glistens and hangs in clear beads until it starts changing color. Spurts of white carry the clear beads away and over the rocks. Viren comes beneath himself and out in front of him as the orbs inside his body begin to abruptly burst. He can feel Aaravos’ energy at once. Raw strength absorbing into him. But what’s even better, Viren realizes as he comes, is the strength of the sensation. It’s pleasure and magic and sex so powerful it’s shredding him into pieces.

No one ever discovers Viren that evening behind the hill. So later they do it again, at night, under the bright stars. Viren is on his back, legs wide, Wormavos in place over him. Viren learns to be the one who moves for them both. Closer to dawn, he is on his side, the mage’s legs wrapped desperately around the creature’s body as he bucks his hips and tries to still seem kingly despite himself.

 _“This is what any real king would do,”_ Viren reasons with himself. Grits his teeth and thrusts with hard slaps against the creature’s pillowy body. Real leaders don’t wait for power – they take it. Today they will go to war. And King Viren will be strong.

**Author's Note:**

> (No, Viren. That's not what any real king would do ffs >>;;)


End file.
